


A Promise Made

by ShatteredSwallowtail



Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 11:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20545535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShatteredSwallowtail/pseuds/ShatteredSwallowtail
Summary: Chad reflects on the changes to his bond with Ichigo. Done for Gateway Bleach's contest round 1. Hopefully it doesn't suck too hard, bc I cannot write Chadat all.





	A Promise Made

The moon had vanished from the sky, her pale white face obscured by clouds as he ran, the soles of his loafers pounding out the rhythm of his shame. It was a rhythm of shame because of the fact that he ran, but more than that because of the _reason_ why he ran. Not from fear, that in and of itself would have been a line of reasoning that the hulking teen could have dealt with. A reason that he could have accepted.

He could not accept that he ran because he had fallen behind.

Listening to the sound of his own breathing as his heart thundered in his chest with more than merely exertion, Sado did his best to chase the thoughts from his mind. To purge from his memories that one particular one, the one that stung like no other wound he had ever received, whether physical or of the heart. There had _been_ wounds aplenty, injuries heaped upon his person and upon his soul throughout his life. It was a fact that he'd come to understand, a fact that he'd accepted when he'd accepted the words of his abuelo that his big fists were to be used for the sake of others and not for himself.

Most people didn't understand that. Seeing his imposing size, his physical strength and appearance, they simply assumed he would fight back. That one such as him would be possessed of a temper to match, and that he would show such a thing when properly provoked. Sado never blamed them for it, never blamed those who attacked him for their misconception because in truth it wasn't entirely untrue. There had been a time, not as long ago as he might have liked to think, when he would have responded in kind and given them the sort of reception they anticipated. But those times were gone, and somehow his unwillingness to fight back only served as fuel for the fire.

That was how he'd spent his days, silently taking the abuse, holding fast to his promise, to the pledge that he'd made to the man who taught him a different way. Until one day that would stick in his mind forever, standing out with the same sort of blazing colour as the hair of the man who personified it.

He'd made a bond that day, made a connection with the lanky, orange-headed teen from his class, the sullen and brash one with the temper and the scowl. It was a bond he'd treasured at once for it's spontaneity and for the selfless way in which it was given. While others questioned, or kept their distance, the bright-haired boy hadn't. Kurosaki Ichigo had, in many ways, been his first true friend. The first one who'd looked past the outer exterior to the boy on the inside, and recognized a friend.

_You fight on my behalf, and I'll fight on yours. Isn't that what we promised, Ichigo? Isn't that what we've always done?_

That was the way it had always been, since that day under the bridge. He could remember, as clearly as if it were yesterday, the fear that had welled up as he'd watched the thug dangle his medallion in the air, watched as the man pulled out a pair of pliers and made ready to cut the talisman in half, knowing full well that it was something more precious to the tall boy than his own life. He'd been powerless then, a feeling that he wasn't used to feeling and hadn't felt in a long time. His arms and legs bound to the chair, helpless to do anything but watch, he'd heard the scuffle from behind him, the yelling and crashing, and then Ichigo had been there.

And when it was all over, and he was staring down at his feet, and at the battered orange head lying there beside them, he'd been unable to do anything but smile back as his friend grinned weakly at him and raised a hand to dangle the medallion for him. Ichigo had been there, as Chad had known he would be. After that, it was as though a new dimension had been added to their friendship, something deeper and more profound, something that neither dared to approach or name. It didn't _need_ a name, it just _was_.

For his part, Chad knew what it was, he knew what that soft fluttering in the pit of his stomach told him whenever he would catch sight of Ichigo laughing, his normally scowling face lit up in a rare smile. The way every day seemed to get just a little bit better when he heard the orange-haired boy's greeting in the morning. And though nothing was ever spoken, nothing was ever acted on or discussed, there was a part of him that suspected Ichigo knew what it was as well. There were times, moments when he'd catch his friend's eyes studying him with an uncharacteristically tender expression, there were little subtle variations in the way they acted towards each other, little hints of what rested below the surface.

Some people may have said otherwise, or may have said that -- had they been in the same circumstances -- something should be done about it, it should be explored and titled. But Chad had never agreed with that. Whatever it was between he and Ichigo, it was enough for him that _he_ knew it was there. That he understood it and treasured it.

It was for that reason that he'd followed his friend into this new world that now mixed so totally with the one they'd began in. It was for Ichigo that he'd gained his power, and in truth it was _because_ of the shinigami. The words that Urahara-san had imparted to him that first fateful day, when he'd saved Ichigo's little sister from what he had not then known was called a "hollow", had brought no surprise, no shock. In fact, it had only made sense that he had gained power, gained the ability to fight, because of the one he fought beside. And even as he'd explained to Inoue that they must now choose their path, he'd known the path that he himself would walk.

It would be whatever path Ichigo walked, as it had been since they had met.

They'd fought together, risked their lives and traveled to Soul Society to rescue Kuchiki Rukia, and though Chad held no ill will towards the girl, the shinigami who had been the catalyst for all of this, he would never deny that it had not been for Kuchiki Rukia that he risked his life. He'd fought not because of the girl herself, not because of the depth of friendship he'd shared with her, but because she was precious to Ichigo.

He'd fought beside the substitute shinigami, even when the time had come where he, like all of them, were forced to step back, to allow Ichigo his own fight. But now....

Now, he was being dismissed. Shoved aside and relegated to the sidelines, a spectator standing alone and abandoned while Ichigo raced on ahead. And the most painful part was that it had been _Ichigo_ who had dismissed him. _Ichigo_ who had seen his weakness and his inability to fight with the Arrancar who were so much more powerful than any of them could have imagined. _Ichigo_ who had trivialized his need to still be there, his need for their bond to stay unchanged in spite of the knowledge that he was outmatched. He'd needed the other boy to understand that, to recognize that while perhaps this wasn't a fight he could win alone, perhaps it was a fight they could win _together_.

But instead, it had been _Ichigo_ who'd forgotten their promise.

And that was the reason he ran now, refusing to listen to the shouts and crashes of battle from behind him. If Ichigo had forgotten their promise.... If Ichigo had dismissed him as too weak, as unfitting to fight.... then he would get stronger. He would train, and fight, and strive, and get stronger so that he could once again take his place at Ichigo's back, holding onto the promise they'd made.

_Ichigo.... I won't fail you again...._


End file.
